


Just a bit too late for it to matter

by ElnaK



Series: Books of Sacrifices [15]
Category: Frequency (2000), Frequency (TV 2016), Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/M, John Reese is John Sullivan, Mention of Canonical Character Death, Old photos, One actor Several characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 08:19:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElnaK/pseuds/ElnaK
Summary: Iris' father is going through old Academy graduation pictures, in search of a familiar face, some time after John's disappearance.





	Just a bit too late for it to matter

Iris watched silently as her father went through a bunch of Academy graduation group pictures, from years ago. She didn't know what he was looking for, or rather, who he was looking for, but she knew it had been gnawing at him for some time already. Since the meal with John, actually.

Iris sighed. If her father was looking for a proof of John's identity, he wouldn't find it there – why would he be looking for one, she didn't know. Not only did Iris had doubts John had actually gone through six months at the Academy, but even if he had, it wasn't in New York. His file said he had transferred from Chicago after some of the people he had put away tried some rather unfriendly courses of action against him. So technically, Iris surmised, should Bill Campbell search for visual proof, he'd have to go through the Chicago police academy records, not the New York ones.

Or perhaps her father was just looking at graduation pictures for another reason. Iris was well aware that everything reminded her of John lately – certainly because the man had been declared missing since the catastrophe with the missile hit right in the city, and Iris knew better than to hope for John to have been anywhere else than right in the middle of it.

She didn't know how, she didn't know why, but she was certain he was dead. When she had heard that John Riley had disappeared... She had gone to ask Lionel Fusco, his partner, but the man wouldn't look her in the eyes, and while she believed him when he said he didn't know what had happened to John, she could also tell he had a pretty good idea; he just wasn't certain of it.

It made John's refusal to go anywhere further with her take a whole new meaning, and Iris wasn't sure she liked where it went. Since the beginning of their sessions, she had noticed that John had very little self-esteem. Of course, he knew what he was worth skill-wise, and intellectually, but he didn't believe that, despite his value as an asset, he was valuable as a human being too. Or if he did, he still thought himself less valuable than about everyone else – irredeemable criminals asides.

John wasn't, per se, suicidal. Just self-sacrificial.

When he had told her he couldn't stay with her... Iris hadn't believed it, but now she could see... He had known all along he wouldn't survive whatever it was that had happened last month. He may not have known when it'd happen, how much time he had left, but he had been able to tell that, whatever it was that he was doing, it'd cost him his life.

Iris wouldn't say it hadn't bothered him. She was convinced that John wanted to live, deep down.

But he didn't want it strong enough to keep him from sacrificing himself.

She took the empty plates from the table – family dinner – to bring them to the kitchen, but just as she started walking, her father grinned in victory.

“Aha! I knew I'd find you there, Sullivan!”

Then, looking up at her, Bill Campbell gestured for his daughter to forget the plates for a moment, and come and look at the photos with him.

“What is it about, Dad?”

Iris noticed that the pictures he was looking at were old, way too old for him to be looking for John. During their meal together, her father had asked him how long he had been on the job, and the answer had been five years. These graduation ceremonies dated back to at least twenty years.

What had her father been looking for?

The former policeman pointed at a face, on a picture from 1989, and Iris did a double-take.

“Officer John Sullivan, at the time. I knew I had seen him somewhere before, but I couldn't place him... Until I realized he had changed his name.”

“But that's not... How?”

Her father was right, this was definitely John. Younger, of course – just over twenty, she guessed – smiling, too. Already a bit broken inside – freaky how you could tell even from an old photo, when you knew what to look for – but nothing like today.

“WITSEC, I think. A local mob boss had put a price on his head. But O'Connor died nine years ago... I guess he got out of WITSEC and decided to come back. His brother's a cop too...”

Bill Campbell showed her another picture, from 1986; Frank Sullivan's graduation ceremony.

He hadn't ever told her about his brother. Iris realized what her father hadn't, then: John might have come back, but he had never allowed himself to be back.

And now, it was too late.

 


End file.
